Not Just a Piece of Furniture
by AyashiDoto
Summary: Allison is a sophomore in McKinley high, and struggles to survive high school with Asperger's Syndrome. Collection of drabbles based on the interactions between Brad the piano man and Allison. Brad/OC FRIENDSHIP


**Hi there! I just felt like typing a little drabble, it will probably be slightly AU as I write it out. I don't know whether or not I will continue this, but I really hope I do :D This is a lot of fun to do, and it's very relaxing.**

**Just so that it is clear, this is in NO way a pairing fanfiction. Yes, I do agree that Brad needs love and attention, but I don't feel like I'll be able to write one with the character I'm using. **

**DISCLAIMER: I do not own Glee, it belongs to it's owners, and I do not get profited by sharing this.**

There was a peaceful quietness about the choir room on this day, the usual for a Tuesday afternoon. End of the school day had come in a rush, students racing past the entrance where Brad sat at his piano, his expression solemn, though he had none in his heart. He was mentally preparing himself for the rehearsal, two hours of Rachel trying to take over the club, Santana spouting nasty comments, and nothing getting accomplished. Brad sighed, feeling exhausted. Teenagers always seemed to have the same effect on him, that being the strong feeling of distaste. They were destructive, obnoxious, overwhelmingly annoying, and downright insane.

He plucked away at the keys of his beloved piano, all thoughts of annoyances fading from his brain. Brad didn't play one particular melody, making good use of a combination of instrumental songs.

A sound of loud footfalls entering the choir room alerted Brad to a new presence. He glanced up, recognizing the new member, a petite redhead by the name of Alison. After letting himself observe her as she panted and attempted to catch her breath, he realized that she was shivering; and almost completely covered in red, blue, and purple.

He let out a silent sigh, knowing the details without even having to speak up. Apparently, either Cheerios or jocks had decided to do triple the 'slushie-ing'. The only thing that made no sense was the fact that classes didn't end for another hour.

"Shouldn't you be in class?" He chose not to use a harsh tone, yet there was a bit of ice to his words.

Her head shot up, and for one moment, the girl reminded Brad of Emma Pillsbury, the doe-eyed counselor. They looked similar, if only due to the ginger status. The girl seemed just as frightened, but was gathering her wits as she tried to make the tears less noticeable with her hair; problem was, she pretty much had a pixie cut, give or take a few inches of hair.

"G-G-Gym," she managed to stammer out, in between a heaving breath. Even with her short statement, he had little information to go by.

Brad nodded. He thought back on the past couple of days, trying to connect everything he had heard from the grapevine. One memory in particular threw itself to the front of his mind. Will's argument with Figgins over the current bullying problem. Apparently, ever since Kurt had transferred to Dalton Academy, the jocks were ganging up on anyone weaker than them, and lower on the food chain. They had stooped so low that they had began to push around the 'Asperger's girl'.

_Wasn't that what Santana had nicknamed the redhead?_ An awfully harsh nickname, but what could Brad do about it.

"Allison," Brad inquired warmly, surprising even himself, "when did it happen?" He wasn't so much concerned as he was frankly curious. The drama that teenagers could produce was intriguing and pathetic all in one go.

Allison's face grew a light pink, her eyes suddenly so intrigued by her feet. Putting her things down, she looked over toward the piano man, and began her small tale.

"It was about five minutes before I ran to the choir room, sir," she responded, surprising Brad thoroughly; he didn't know how long it had been since anyone addressed him as sir, a teenager, at least. She began again after another moment, "they cornered me in the girl's locker room. Apparently I deserved to be soaked through with crushed ice." After explaining herself, she lifted the bag she held her gym clothing in, and pulled out a small towel. She mopped up all the moisture she could as she watched as Brad began to play again. Allison smiled lightly, the music calming her anxiety down. She stuffed the towel back in the bag, walking over to Brad, and taking a seat next to him on the piano bench.

Brad continued to play, yet occasionally would glance warily toward her. He was most interested in the fact that she was rocking back and forth on the bench, not lifting it, but bobbing her head slightly, a stupid looking grin on her face. She watched his fingers elegantly work the piano, her glance looking toward nothing in particular; even when he'd been observing her, her eyes only looked at his once. As soon as it happened, it stopped, her face looking as if she had just been temporarily blinded and burned at the same time.

_Maybe this is what it might be like, _Brad thought,his mind trying to remember any of the texts he had read on disability.

"I-I'm sorry," she apologized, which Brad had no idea the cause.

"What for?" His inquiry caused her cheeks to become slightly pink.

"Eye contact," she explained, using elaborate hand gestures that had absolutely nothing to do with what the girl was describing. "I have a lack of social skills, which includes the ability to maintain healthy eye contact with someone during conversation," she talked as if she were reading from the dictionary.

He nodded, attempting to log the information into his brain. He mentally scratched out the assumption that the girl wasn't intelligent, and smiled turning to her more.

"Are you feeling better?" Brad mentally rolled his eyes, knowing that he didn't really care much about the drama of a teenage girl.

"Yes, very much so, sir," she was now wearing that same stupid grin from earlier, and he let out a small sigh.

"Everyone in the Glee club knows me as Brad," he said, not implying that he was going to force her to call him that.

"Nice to meet you then, Brad," she said, taking his free hand into a handshake.

"You as well," he replied politely.

"I just realized something, Brad," she sounded as if she had just had some sort of epiphany.

"And what is that?"

"This is the first time you've ever spoken since I've been in New Directions," she said, boldly stating the complete obvious. To her though, it was a huge improvement on her awareness of her surroundings.

Brad couldn't help but let out a small laugh, patting her shoulder. "Yes it is."


End file.
